


A Simple Request

by CriticalQueer



Series: A Simple Request [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Beau underestimates how much she needs sex, Edging, Established Relationship, F/F, I've been reading Beauyasha for a month, Masturbation, Memories, Mentions of bad sex in the past, Oral Sex, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Promises, Really just a lot of sex, Sorry Not Sorry, Waiting, Yasha goes away again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 07:18:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CriticalQueer/pseuds/CriticalQueer
Summary: “I have a request this time,” Yasha breathed, her soft words contrasting with the electric crackle and low rumble of the storm approaching on the horizon. There was nearly no distance between her face and Beau’s as they paused for a moment between fervent goodbye kisses.“Anything,” came Beau’s reply."The next time you come, I want it to be with me.”





	A Simple Request

**Day 0**

 

“I have a request this time,” Yasha breathed, her soft words contrasting with the electric crackle and low rumble of the storm approaching on the horizon. There was nearly no distance between her face and Beau’s as they paused for a moment between fervent goodbye kisses.

 

“Anything,” came Beau’s reply. Her fingers gently disentangled themselves from the Aasimar’s hair and came to rest where her face met her neck.

 

With bold eyes and a slight smile, Yasha explained, “The next time you come, I want it to be with me.”

 

“With you- Oh,” Beau said, after taking a moment to process her lover’s request. “Easy,” she said with a smirk. “I can wait.”

 

After a few more deep but hurried kisses, the reluctant disengaging of limbs, and a slight but audible sound of wanting from the monk’s lips, Beau watched as Yasha hoisted her pack onto her muscular shoulders. She turned and walked in the direction of the oncoming storm. 

 

“I’ll be back soon, dear,” Beau heard Yasha say. Beau was the only person she awoke before leaving. Yasha was never very good at saying goodbye, but she had started trying since the pair’s relationship changed dramatically a few months before.

 

Beau watched Yasha leave in the occasional flash of lightning that lit up the night sky. The crackling energy lit up her outline against the grays and blacks of the storm.  _ As if Yasha needed to look more divine, _ she thought. 

 

She returned to her bedroll, dragging it underneath the wagon in preparation for the storm. It was not until she was tucked into her blankets that she began to think about what Yasha had asked of her. It was a new request, but not an unusual one for their relationship. Yasha and Beau were both powerful people on the battlefield but felt largely powerless when dealing with others. It was a new experience for both women to make another person completely unravel, to give in to feeling lips on lips, hands wandering, tongues circling, and fingertips finding their marks. They took turns wrapping one another around their fingers, often literally, and took immense pleasure in reducing their lover to a shaking mess of wanting, breathless pleas. So it came as no surprise that Yasha wanted to keep hold of something of Beau’s while she was gone. 

 

What surprised Beau was that Yasha had asked. She wondered for a moment how long Yasha had been wanting this; whether she had considered asking the last time the Storm King called for her in the night. Beau would have said yes. Anything Yasha asked for is almost always a yes. And besides, Yasha has never gone away for more than a week or so. Beau’s desperately horny teenage years were behind her. She could do this.

 

Beau rolled over, finding a comfortable position and letting sleep overtake her. 

 

One week. 

 

Easy, right?

  
  


* * *

**Day 1**

 

The next morning, Beau awoke to the smell of petrichor, the scents of dewy grass and leaves mixing with the humid, still-charged air. She crawled out from underneath the wagon and began packing her things, preparing to continue on with the Mighty Nein’s current journey. The scent of cooking eggs and meat found her nose and she joined the rest of her team for breakfast, perching herself on a tree stump near the fire.

 

“The ground is wet and Beauregard is sitting alone,” Caleb observed aloud. “I take it we are short one Barbarian for the time being?” 

 

“Left in the night again,” Beau remarked, examining the sky for any traces of dark clouds.

 

Jester plopped herself down on a fallen log next to Nott and retrieved a scone from her pack, tossing it to Fjord to heat over the fire. “She’ll be back soon, Beau,” she said with a smile.

 

“At least we don’t have to worry about getting ambushed in the night because the two people on watch duty are too busy watching each other,” Mollymauk teased. Beau stuck her tongue out at the lavender Tiefling, who raised a middle finger in response.

 

“I’m pretty sure the last time we were surprised, it was that time when you and Caleb-” Beau’s sentence was cut short by the rapid closing of a Wizard’s spellbook. 

 

“...Fell asleep on watch,  _ ja _ , we know, but at least my Alarm spell worked as expected,” Caleb quickly finished. “Now, we should probably focus on planning for the rest of our day…”

 

A snicker from Molly and the slight flush on Caleb’s cheeks failed to escape Beau’s notice. 

 

* * *

**Day 2**

 

The quick hands of a Goblin shook Beauregard awake, in time for her third watch shift. “Nothing much in the night,” Nott informed her, taking a sip from her flask. “I already woke Fjord, and he is walking a perimeter just to be sure.”

“Thanks,” Beau murmured, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She knew Monks were supposed to awake early and meditate to the rising sun on a hilltop somewhere, but shit like that was never her style. She preferred to roll out of bed when the sun was higher in the sky (or in the sky at all), but as she propped herself up with her pack against a tree, Beau couldn’t help but notice that the stars in the fading night sky were beautiful. 

 

Yasha was the one who pointed out the constellations to her. Now, she doubted she could remember any of their names, but she remembered almost everything else from that night. It was the first night they fell asleep together, and it had been a long time coming. 

 

_ For weeks, Beau had switched watch shifts with the other members of the Mighty Nein, doing almost anything she could to find herself on watch with her beautiful friend. Each time, Beau tried to make a move, and each time, Yasha dodged. Or didn’t notice. Probably the latter. Beau’s idea of a “move” was awkwardly mentioning how cold it was, and then bailing out, her tongue tripping over her words as she stammered something about the material of her tunic.  _

 

_ But on that one particular night, she stared at Yasha’s heterochromatic eyes fixated on the stars above, wishing that she could be as good with words as she was with actions. Then, Beau realized- for Yasha, actions meant everything. She took a breath and walked over to the Aasimar, laying on the ground with her hands supporting her head, and found a similar position on the dirt beside her. They lay in silence for at least thirty minutes, watching the stars as Beau shifted slowly towards Yasha until the two were touching. At that first contact, Beau froze, waiting for any sign that the Aasimar was resisting her touch, then continued wordlessly shifting herself closer until she finally could lean her head on Yasha’s chest. She was surprised to hear Yasha’s heartbeat through her clothing, beating loudly and at the pace of a jackrabbit. Only then did Beau feel the rapid hammering inside of her own chest. She was almost certain Yasha could hear it, too.  _

 

_ Beau was paralyzed by nervousness for a moment until she felt Yasha shift, one arm leaving from behind the Barbarian’s head and coming down around her to rest on her waist. Beau closed her eyes for a moment to feel a wave of elation sweep through her body. It almost seemed unreal, finally feeling what she had been hoping for since they met. The two women kept shifting closer, settling in a position that could only be described as cuddling together, staring at stars. Finally, Yasha broke the silence.  _

 

_ “Draco.” _

 

_ “Who?” _

 

_ Yasha pointed her free hand up at a collection of stars in the night sky. “That one is called Draco.”  _

 

_ Over the next hour, Yasha named dozens of constellations and stars, and Beau didn’t see a single one of them. She just stared at Yasha’s lips, mesmerized by their apparent softness and the way they pulled and tugged at her black makeup when they moved, catching the occasional glimpse of the tip of Yasha’s tongue, and caught up in the low, melodic tones of her voice. Their heartbeats slowed together, returning to normal, adjusting to the feeling of each other. _

 

_ Their embrace was only disturbed by the coming of the second watch. Beau reluctantly rolled herself away from Yasha, taking note of a very soft sound of protest escaping the Barbarian’s lips. The two said nothing about it, but Beau went back to her bedroll and lay awake for hours, swearing she could still feel Yasha’s steady heartbeat in her pillow. _

 

It was one of Beau’s favorite memories. She shifted her position, lying on the ground, remembering the cool earth beneath her that night. One memory brought Beau to another. She played night after night of their secret watch meetings, something they never spoke a word about, but both actively tried to arrange every evening. Each one started the same way; Yasha would find a place far enough away from the bedrolls of their companions, Beau would approach her slowly but settle in quickly when Yasha’s arms wrapped around her. But some nights, someone pushed further, pulled closer, touched somewhere new-

 

_ Yasha’s hand on the side of her face, turning her head until their eyes met, _

 

_ Beau’s hands resting on Yasha’s chest, feeling both their heartbeats suddenly racing, _

 

_ Yasha’s face suddenly meeting Beau’s, their noses resting hesitantly on one another, _

 

_ Beau’s breath catching in her throat, waiting. _

 

_ Yasha’s lips crashing into hers, warm and soft and every fucking bit like she imagined, _

 

_ Beau’s startled hands finding their way down to Yasha’s waist, pulling her in, _

 

_ Yasha’s tongue grazing Beau’s lips, asking to continue, _

 

_ And every part of Beau’s body answering yes, her lips parting and their tongues- _

 

Beau was pulled back to reality by the sudden realization of a growing heat between her legs. She could feel the blood pooling, redirected there just from the memory of Yasha’s tongue slipping into her mouth. Embarrassed, Beau flushed, feeling fortunate that Fjord was not around to see it. She wasn’t usually caught up as quickly as this; it typically took the memory of Yasha’s tongue in another location to make her feel that way. 

 

Looking for any signs of his return, Beau contemplated slipping her hand through the robes of her tunic to take the heat away like she usually did every few nights when Yasha wasn’t here, but she quickly stopped herself, remembering her promise. A tiny, dull pang of disappointment and stagnation travelled down from her chest and settled between her legs. It went away before the end of her watch, but as the sun came up over the trees, Beau began to wonder if this week would be harder than she thought.

  
  


* * *

**Day 4**

 

Another day of eventless travel, another night of eventless watching, and another morning of eventless breakfast smalltalk left Beau itching for a battle. Luckily for her, they were only a few miles away from their next mark from The Gentleman, and as the day’s adventure played out, it was anything but eventless. The fight had been quick, but brutal, and Beau was left with a pounding headache and a painful gash on her thigh. But Molly had been wounded more gravely than she; it took everything Jester had to bring him back, and there was no healing magic left in the blue Tiefling for Beau. 

 

She downplayed her injury when Nott offered her a healing potion, instead taking a swig from her bottomless flask and flashing her best “I’m Beau, I got this,” smile. Regardless, Jester offered to take third watch with Beau so she could be rested and prepared to heal her as soon as the watch began. 

 

When night fell, Beau tried to sleep, but the combination of the pain from her injuries and the tearful Zemnian whispering she could hear from two bedrolls on the other side of the campsite kept her up for hours, playing the battle over and over in her head. The day’s battle rolled into other battles, and Beau started remembering some of the times she had fallen.

 

_ Days after Beau and Yasha shared their first kiss in the night, the party was exploring a cave, sent there from a small village frightened by strange noises from its caverns. The cave was long, winding and narrow, and broke into multiple paths along the way. Somehow, Yasha and Beau had become separated from the rest of the group, when Beau failed to notice four long, tentacle-like, beaked creatures watching them from the ceiling of the cave. They dropped without warning, startling the pair. Yasha’s skeletal wings immediately burst from her back and two of the creatures froze in fear while the third and fourth dove to peck at Beau. Caught completely off guard and momentarily distracted by the powerful visage of a woman next to her, Beau was unable to dodge their beaks and took a serious hit to the lower abdomen, right above her hip bone. _

 

_ Beau retaliated with a quick series of strikes, knocking one of the attackers back, but all four Gricks clearly decided she was the more approachable target and focused on her, getting a number of attacks in despite Yasha cleaving one in half with a single swing.  _

 

_ The last thing Beau remembered was a screech, one of the creatures knocking her off her feet, and the scream of the Barbarian next to her as her head hit the rocky cave floor and her vision went black. _

 

Beau’s heart beat faster from the memory. 

 

_ She woke up, propped against the cave wall, in immense pain but aware of a warm sensation spreading from her side down to her hip. Beau looked down and saw the retracting wings of Yasha’s fallen form disappearing, her hair fading back to white at the tips, and her face a mix of concentration and rage as her shaking hands travelled down Beau’s exposed abdomen. Yasha’s hands radiated a bright, divine light, stitching back together the worst of Beau’s injury.  _

 

_ Yasha pulled back the sash at Beau’s waist to follow the wound down, revealing a part of her that the Aasimar had not seen yet, and Beau’s disoriented mind struggled to process anything past Yasha’s hands tracing the V-shaped line of muscle from her abs.  _

 

_ A gasp escaped Beau’s lips, equal part pain from her injury and from the sensation of Yasha’s fingers in a new place, and her abs contracted on reflex. This sent another wave of pain through Beau’s entire torso and she almost doubled over, but was caught in Yasha’s arms before she slipped to the side. _

 

_ “No, no, I have you, no-” Yasha consoled, speaking over Beau’s sudden cries of pain. She tried to steady Beau against the cave wall again, but changed tactics, pulling Beau into her arms instead.  _

 

_ “You- they- are they dead?” Beau stuttered, still breathless.  _

 

_ Yasha pulled Beau’s clothing back into place as best she could. “All four. Fucking things didn’t stand a chance.” She moved the hand that wasn’t holding Beau in place up to her hair, gently running her still-shaking fingers through it. “It’s okay now. You’re okay.” _

 

_ Beau didn’t remember the details of what happened next; it was a haze of trying to concentrate on Yasha, distracting her from the injuries she was not able to heal. Jester and the others arrived soon enough and proper healing was administered, but Yasha did not take her eyes or hands off of Beau until they were back at their rooms above a small tavern in town. _

 

_ Yasha and Beau were sharing a room with Jester, but if there’s one thing that girl can do, it’s read the subtext. And honestly, it was hardly even subtext. Everyone at that point knew what Yasha and Beau did during watch; they had seen the small glances and the casual touches, and if they were somehow oblivious to all the signs, they at least could see the protective way Yasha clung to Beau for the remainder of the day. So Jester, and everyone else, left the two alone for an early night. _

 

_ And it was a night. Yasha’s kisses were deeper and more unbridled than they had ever been before. Her hands travelled without hesitation over Beau’s body and grabbed at her clothing, in seeming desperation to remove any barriers between the women’s skin. _

 

_ Beau was immediately turned on, wondering if she should get knocked out every day just to feel Yasha touching her with such overwhelming conviction. She helped Yasha maneuver her arms out of her blue tunic and began grappling with Yasha’s shirt. But before she was even out of her breastband, Yasha’s desperate movements slowed to a shaking halt, followed by actual shaking. A sob escaped the Aasimar’s chest, leading to more, as she traced her fingers along the many dark, not-yet-scars that newly adorned Beauregard’s body. Her eyes grew darker and filled with tears. _

 

_ “No, I’m here, I’m okay,” Beau breathed, her hands moving from Yasha’s untied shirt to her face, her thumb wiping a tear from her lover’s cheek. “I’m safe. You kept me safe.” _

 

_ Yasha curled her body around Beau’s, her face resting in the crook of Beau’s neck. She sobbed softly while Beau ran her hands through her hair and whispered that she wasn’t going anywhere. It took some time for Yasha to become quiet, but when she did, the two stayed, wrapped around each other, nearly naked from the waist up, reveling in the feeling of their skin touching without anything in between. Beau thought Jester came in sometime around midnight, but it wasn’t important. Yasha’s skin felt like heaven and she could hardly even remember where she was supposed to be injured. There was nothing else in the world except the two of them. _

 

Or, the one of Beau. Her mind snapping back to reality, Beau became acutely aware of the lack of Yasha anywhere on her skin. Everything felt cold and her thigh was still stinging. This would not be happening if Yasha was here. Her bedroll would be next to Beau’s, blankets folded over each other’s to make one, just like how she imagined Molly and Caleb’s to be right now. They were still whispering to one another. Pangs of jealousy joined the empty feeling in Beau’s stomach. 

 

She might have slept that night, but she probably just drifted.

  
  


* * *

**Day 5**

 

“Beau, wake up, I can heal you now,” Jester whispered, pulling Beau out of her half-sleep state in the wee hours of the morning. Final watch was here, and Jester’s spells had come back to her. 

 

She crawled slowly out of her bedroll and allowed the Tiefling to give her a hand up, wincing at the sharp pain travelling through her thigh when she put weight on that leg. Jester walked with Beau over to a log near the campfire.

 

“Now, I am going to need you to pull down your pants for me to take a better look at it,” instructed the Tiefling. “I’m sure this would be a lot more fun for you if I was a certain Aasimar, but Yasha is away so you’ll just have to make do with me instead.”

 

Beau complied, chuckling.

 

Jester immediately got to work, examining the skin around the gash for any sign of infection. Her fingers were awfully close to Beauregard’s smallclothes, but her manner was strictly business, and with a few herbs and spells, she made quick work of Beau’s injury. In its place was a fresh not-yet-scar, which Yasha would find as soon as she came back.

 

As soon as she came back…

 

Beau hadn’t given much thought to that yet. 

 

She and Jester relaxed on opposite sides of the campfire, Jester busying herself with her sketchbook and Beau sewing together part of her ripped tunic. Jester was right, it  _ would _ have been more fun if it was Yasha. And Yasha is going to have plenty of fun with her when she comes back…

 

_ Clothes flying _

 

_ Yasha’s gasp _

 

_ Kisses covering the new injury _

 

_ Yasha’s mouth moving higher _

 

_ Her tongue on Beau’s skin… _

 

_ Her tongue moving higher… _

 

_ Moving to her entrance… _

 

_ Pulling up to her clit… _

 

_ And making one of those delicious circles Yasha is so good at... _

 

Beau’s mind got away from her again, lost in a full-blown daydream about Yasha’s return. And that started the dull ache, creeping back between her legs, stronger this time. Demanding something of her this time. Making her yearn for any kind of contact with the swollen bundle of nerves at the beginning of her slit. One of her hands was already in her pants, holding together the torn seam of fabric, while her other hand stitched it up. It would be so easy, to move one hand for a moment, just to feel some friction for only a second.

 

Her tongue was gliding rhythmically up and down her bottom teeth. Beau wasn’t just yearning to be touched, but also to touch; Yasha, in stark contrast to her desires in almost every other aspect of her life, liked to be touched so gently that Beau almost always needed to come first, to work the yearning and the energy out of herself so that she could focus on soft kisses and slowly sliding her fingers or tongue around the Aasimar’s extremely sensitive mound. 

 

The first few times they had sex, Yasha resisted being touched below the belt, and Beauregard wondered if she was interested in receiving at all. It would be okay if she wasn’t, but Beau secretly hoped she would get to make Yasha feel as good as she did every time Yasha brought her to climax. 

 

_ They had sex one night in Zadash, Yasha fucking the breath out of Beau, her fingers learning how to drive her up the wall. They fell asleep like they normally did, but Beau woke back up a short time later as the Aasimar next to her began to stir. Beau pretended to still be asleep but watched Yasha out of hardly-open eyes. _

 

_ She was laying on her back, one hand slipping inside her trousers and smallclothes. Yasha stifled a gasp, and Beau couldn’t look away from the beautiful woman pleasuring herself beside her. Through the layers of fabric, Beau could see Yasha’s hand moving slowly and deliberately, seeming to barely graze the surface of her clit. Contact like that would be maddening for Beau, but Yasha’s face showed ecstacy, her eyes shut and her head thrown back. It took Yasha less than a minute to bring herself to a shuddering orgasm, a word sounding an awful lot like Beau’s name escaping her lips and her hips moving up just slightly. Yasha rolled away from Beau, breathing deeply, her back rising and falling, tensionless body curling up into a ball.  _

 

_ It was the hottest thing Beau had ever seen. _

 

_ She moved to wrap her arms around Yasha, but as her hand made contact with her side, the Aasimar withdrew, curling tighter in a ball. Beauregard’s hand recoiled and she sat up in confusion. _

 

_ “What’s-”, Beau began to ask, not sure which words were supposed to follow. _

 

_ “Did you see?” Yasha asked, voice shaking. _

 

_ “Yes,” Beau replied, “and it was-” _

 

_ “Pathetic.” Yasha filled in the end of her sentence and tightened her arms around herself. All the tension returned to her form and her shoulders stiffened again. _

 

_ Beau frantically searched for the right words, knowing better than to touch right now. “No, that was- you were- absolutely beautiful.” She paused. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked it gentle?” _

 

_ “Because I know that you don’t. And I love being rough with you, giving it to you like that is all I really need. I’ll be okay if that’s all we do. I can just finish myself after.” Her words were full of disappointment and embarrassment, having to talk this explicitly about something so uncomfortable. It was good that her face was hidden, because she never could have met Beau’s eyes. _

 

_ “Hey, no, don’t think like that,” Beau hurried to say. “I like what I like, but I want to give it to you the way you like.” She hoped she was making sense. “I’ll go as slow as you want. I’ll learn. I just want you to look like that one day, and it’s me who got you there.” _

 

_ “No one else has said that,” the retreated Aasimar whispered. “No one has ever tried.” _

 

_ Understanding washed over Beau, replaced by protectiveness and anger at whoever didn’t listen to Yasha in her past. No one had ever… Yasha had never been touched the way she wanted to. “Then they missed out.” Yasha didn’t respond.  _

 

_ Cautiously, Beau continued. She longed to hold Yasha now. “May I put my arms around you?” she asked. _

 

_ “Yes,” Yasha said. As Beau wrapped herself around the larger woman, she pulled her in as tightly as she could, kissing the back of her head and down to her shoulders.  _

 

_ “I want to try.” _

 

_ And the next time they had sex, Yasha drained Beau of her unbridled horniness and nervous energy with her fingers and tongue, but instead of falling asleep, Beau brought Yasha over the edge in what couldn’t have been longer than thirty seconds, gentle caresses on her clit pulling soft moans and gasps in broken Celestial from the Aasimar’s lips. Beau swore it was the best sound in the world. _

 

The thought only made her hornier, and without her permission, her hand moved over her smallclothes and she immediately realized that she was wet. She pressed into her mound with two fingers, finally feeling a tiny bit of the resistance she was craving. She stifled a gasp at the contact. Beau pulled her fingers down and then up, leaving a featherlight touch on her clit that only served to increase her desire. The ache returned as soon as the brief moment of relief ended, immediately filling back up like a hole in the sand when the tide comes back in, and Beauregard was left even hornier than before.

 

And there was nothing she could do about it.

 

This was maddening.

 

Thank the Gods that Jester was too engrossed in her drawings to notice.

 

* * *

**Day 6**

 

The Mighty Nein found their way unexpectedly to a populous city and that meant shopping, taverns, drinking, and bath houses. Beau loved the group’s stops in larger cities. She was excited to have something new to do. Being on the open road with nothing but her thoughts was difficult when half her thoughts were about Yasha. She needed to have a good day, focusing on anything else, so when Molly suggested they visit the bath house, Bearegard went right along.

 

The bath house had fairly small baths, ones that could be used by individuals or couples. Caleb tried to rent one for himself and Nott, but some swift intervention from Mollymauk brought a flush to the human’s cheeks and somehow arranged them to share a bath. Jester gasped and giggled at the public display of affection from them, which was unusual considering how new a couple they were, and how private Caleb could be. Then, Jester rented one for herself and Fjord, Nott asked to wait outside, and Beauregard was left in the lobby to rent her own or to miss out.

 

She rented her own.

 

The elf running the front desk showed her to her small cubicle, mercifully a distance away from those being used by the couples in her group, and Beauregard closed the door behind her. Stripping out of her tunic, pants, and smallclothes, she looked forward to soaking herself in the lavender-scented bubbles and hot water before her. Beau dipped a toe in to test the temperature and then jumped in, splashing water all over the nearby ornaments and towels.

 

The water felt amazing on her skin, especially around some bruises that were still on her body. Its temperature relaxed the pain away, taking with it the tension in her shoulders and back. Beauregard remembered how much she loved baths. Especially with Yasha.

 

_ They had been having sex for a few weeks at that point, and it was absolutely incredible. Touch was their common language and they had so much to say to one another, suddenly coming out in the hottest way possible. They shared a private bath together, and it didn’t take long for the situation to become steamy.  _

 

_ In fact, the fastest Beauregard had ever come (except for the first time a girl touched her when she was 14- that was quite an experience-) was in the bath with Yasha. Somehow, the Aasimar managed to turn her on so much that she was able to duck her head into the water between Beau’s legs and send her over the edge with her mouth, without coming up for air. And Beau would be damned if it wasn’t the hot as hell. Yasha switched to her fingers to let Beau ride out her orgasm as she came up for air, but it was Beau who was gasping, pulling Yasha’s face to hers and moaning, her pleasure giving way to aftershocks. _

 

The memory reignited everything between Beau’s legs.

 

She was running out of reserve. It was only six days, but it had already been too long. Everything reminded Beau of Yasha. Everything. And Yasha reminded her how horny she suddenly was, banned from the use of her own fingers to relieve her body of the unbridled wanting that only grew and grew every day Yasha was away from her.

 

Beau twisted her hands into her hair, trying to find anything else to do with them, when a thought occurred to her-

 

_ Yasha said I can’t come. She never said I can’t play. _

 

Looking around to check for anyone who might be able to see her, Beauregard decided she was alone enough and sunk down into the bubbles so that only her head was above water. The aching became a powerful throbbing of anticipation of the relief her fingers were going to give her. But Beau had to make this last; she couldn’t rush it just to chase release, so she started with her fingers on her chest.

 

They found her nipples and gently stroked and pulled, feeling that direct line of arousal shoot straight to her clit, which started clamoring to be touched. But Beau’s hands stayed. She closed her eyes and imagined that Yasha was in this bath with her, touching and licking because she knew how much it wrecked Beau to tease her like that.

 

When Beau couldn’t stand it anymore, she traced one hand down her abs, lower, and finally in between her lips, imagining Yasha’s thicker fingers instead of her own. Beau was so wet, feeling a thicker liquid than the water around her, and the amount of wetness just drove Beau closer and closer. The fingers she pretended were Yasha’s started making teasing circles around Beau’s clit, just a little too wide to hit where she needed them to be, and she gasped loudly, throwing her head back and almost hitting the taps. Beau’s other hand travelled down, but without any teasing this time- Beau was close and she was chasing the delicious conclusion that her body expected. Those fingers slipped into her hole, plunging and crooking to bring her fingertips to someplace bound to throw her over the edge, as her other hand tightened its circles to bring her clit closer and closer and closer…

 

As Beau felt her orgasm swell and rise, ready to break, she remembered Yasha’s beautiful form, walking away from her into thunder and lightning after asking her to wait. Beau’s immense need to take herself over the edge was only rivaled by the thought of her lover’s request. Reluctantly, and with the most powerful, dull, disappointed, and frustrated ache she had ever felt, Beau took her fingers away from herself. She wanted to cry out with how much she needed them back in. Her hips bucked instinctually, against nothing but water. This was torture.

 

Beau didn’t know how she got through the rest of that bath, somehow leaving feeling dirtier than she was when she started, but she managed to resist, and kept her resistance for the rest of the day.

 

Yasha needed to come back; Beau couldn’t last much longer.   
  


* * *

**Day 7**

 

It was the Mighty Nein’s last night in town before setting off on the road again, and they were celebrating, ordering food and drinks in the tavern below their rented rooms. Some of Beau’s favorite memories involved nights like these; it was rare that their group got to feel like regular people, living their lives in civilization and drinking after a day’s work. The normalcy was comforting to Beau, who never passed up the opportunity to drink a beer and play cards. She had almost forgotten about the longing between her thighs, although it was definitely still there.

 

The hour was nearing midnight when the tavern doors swung open. Beau looked up and there she was- Yasha; tall, beautiful Yasha, standing in the doorway and looking around for her friends. She saw Molly first and strode over to greet him, becoming enveloped in a hug as soon as the Tiefling turned around. The rest of the Mighty Nein started to notice her arrival and Yasha was the center of attention, smiling at the excited Jester squealing about her return and nodding her head to Fjord, who was always glad to see her.

 

Beau abandoned her card game and the silver pieces riding on its outcome. Her heart started pounding again as she quickly weaved her way through bar patrons and furniture to cross the room. Yasha didn’t see her coming and flinched in surprise as Beau darted to the front of her, pushing Nott out of the way and wrapping her arms around the Aasimar’s form. A sudden gasp escaped Yasha’s lips and she followed suit, pulling Beau closer and leaning her face down into her hair. Beau’s nose was filled with the scent of her, musky and stormy but vaguely floral nonetheless, and it made her fingers curl into Yasha’s clothing, silently demanding that she never went anywhere again. 

 

“She missed you,” Jester announced, but Yasha already knew that. Beau disentangled one hand from Yasha’s clothes to show her middle finger to the Tiefling.

 

The pair left each other’s embrace but didn’t lose contact, their hands clasped together as the group recounted the week’s events. Yasha was listening closely but Beau couldn’t keep her mind on her friends’ words when Yasha’s form was right next to her. When the group found a table to continue their conversation, Beau took the seat on Yasha’s right, resting their held hands on Yasha’s thigh.

 

Beau slowly removed her fingers from Yasha’s and placed her hand just above the Barbarian’s knee. The heat was coming back full-force and she needed to tell Yasha just how much she needed her, right now, upstairs, no waiting. Her fingers moved back and forth, moving higher and higher with each stroke until she was past the middle of the Aasimar’s thigh. Although Yasha kept her eyes on Caleb, telling the story of Molly’s brush with death, her legs parted just slightly to give way to Beau’s hand and the unspoken invitation sent those familiar sparks through Beauregard’s veins and down to her already-wet slit. She went higher and higher, so close to what she wanted, intent on distracting Yasha enough to pull her away from the group. 

 

Yasha placed her hand over Beau’s, stopping its upwards climb and moving it back to Beau’s thigh. Beau was momentarily disappointed by this seeming rejection, but then Yasha’s hand copied hers, this time on the Monk’s thigh, starting low and climbing, climbing, climbing. If Beau wasn’t already turned on to full capacity, she was now. She could have sworn there was no blood left anywhere else in her body. Everything was between her legs, and she struggled to maintain a neutral expression while internally begging Yasha’s fingers to climb higher. But they stopped, just inches away from where Beau needed them to be. And there they stayed, still and agonizing, for what felt to Beau like hours but was probably closer to minutes. Beau’s mind raced, searching for a way to get Yasha alone.

 

The Barbarian already had a plan. She waited for a break in the story, then announced, “I think I’ll have to hear the rest in the morning. I’m so tired I could fall asleep on this table.” She stood up, letting her nails scrape against Beau’s skin as they departed her thigh. Beau caught a gasp in her throat.

 

“Room 7,” Jester announced, handing the second key to Beau’s room to Yasha. “Beau, will you show her where it is?” 

 

Beau silently thanked the Gods for Jester, standing up next to Yasha and taking her hand. “Goodnight,” she quickly said to the rest of the party before leading her lover out of the bar and up the stairs to the hallway of rooms above. Finding room 7, Beau tried to unlock it as quickly as she could, her hands shaking in anticipation. The heat was gathering again, and just knowing she was minutes away from a release pooled her blood faster and faster. Yasha steadied her hands on the key and the two turned the latch, opening the door to a simple tavern room with two beds. They entered, and no sooner had Yasha closed it behind her than she found herself pressed against it, willingly submitting to the Monk’s purposeful shove on her hips. 

 

Yasha gasped, wrapping her arms around Beau’s waist and pulling her closer. Her lips parted gently, allowing Beau’s tongue to touch hers, only serving to make the girls want one another more than they already did. Beau’s fingertips curled into Yasha’s shirt and pulled it out from the waistband of her pants, allowing her hands access to Yasha’s perfectly sculpted abdomen. Yasha’s fingers ran up and down Beau’s spine in response, spending extra time at the bundle of nerves just above the Monk’s tailbone, making her gasp into Yasha’s mouth and suck gently on the Aasimar’s soft bottom lip. 

 

Their mouthes parted for air, and Beau spoke to her lover for the first time that night. “I want you, so fucking badly,” her voice low and laced with need. 

 

Yasha whined in response, parting her legs and bringing one hand past Beau’s ass and down to her thigh, moving it so their legs fit together, allowing each other something to rut against. And Beau did, her arousal evident all throughout her body, but nowhere more obvious than the aching part of her grinding against Yasha’s muscular thigh. Waves of pleasure travelled through Beau’s veins and she moaned from the long-awaited friction. 

 

“No, I need you,” Beau corrected herself. “I can’t wait any longer.” And she couldn’t; with the object of her many fantasies finally in her grasp, lips on her lips and hands on her body, Beau was already halfway gone. Her hips bucked upwards as her body hunted for more and more contact, aching to feel skin instead of layers of wet clothing.

 

Yasha wasted no time, powerless against Beau’s voice when it was full of wanting and becoming breathless. She moved Beau’s legs so they were straddling hers, but as the Monk moaned in protest of the lost sensation, Yasha brought her hands underneath Beau’s ass and picked her up easily, allowing Beau’s legs to wrap around her waist. The Aasimar carried her lover to the first bed and laid her down, immediately starting work on untying Beau’s sash and stripping her out of her tunic.

 

“Did you wait for me?” Yasha asked, out of breath and far too intent on exposing Beau’s skin to notice that her own voice was filled with want. 

 

Beau sat up for just long enough to let Yasha remove her clothing, leaving only her breastband and smallclothes covering the parts of her aching most to be touched. She nodded, reaching to pull Yasha to her face by the back of her hair. “I almost didn’t make it.”

 

Just the thought of Beau fighting against her arousal caused Yasha to moan and climb onto her lover, her hands starting to wander and her lips kissing a line down her neck. Yasha’s mouth moved over Beau’s breastband and her tongue darted out, knowing exactly where would drive Beau wild.

 

And the Monk was becoming wild; the sensation of tongue glancing over her nipple caused it to harden under the thin fabric, and when Yasha moved to do the same on the other side, Beau was whining, bucking her hips upwards to grind her horny slit on anything, any part of Yasha she could get between her legs. Yasha pulled down her breastband to expose the small mounds beneath it, caught up for a moment in her lover’s nearly naked form. But Beau’s hands pulled her head back to her chest and Yasha took one nipple in her mouth, mirroring her tongue’s movements with her fingers on the other nipple, and rendering Beau incapable of being quiet for even a moment.

 

Between breathy moans and a chorus of  _ yes, yes, yes _ , Beau choked out, “I don’t think I can last much longer.” And it was true; the heat had reached a fever pitch, and if she kept grinding her mound into Yasha, it would be a matter of moments until her climbing arousal gave way to a crashing, desperately needed orgasm. Just thinking about it brought her dangerously close and she tried to slow her hips, knowing she could get Yasha’s fingers or- oh, Gods, her tongue- if she just waited a little more.

 

Yasha, her pupils dilated at the sight of the writhing Monk beneath her, removed her mouth from Beau’s nipples and kissed down her stomach, pulling down the waistband of her pants and licking the entire length of the scar she had sustained from the Grick months ago. Beau gasped and tangled her fingers into Yasha’s hair, trying to guide her tongue lower. 

 

The Aasimar paused a moment, her fingers about to pull down the last barriers of clothing away from the source of Beauregard’s maddening heat. Her blue and violet eyes looked up to meet Beau’s, and from her lips came a quiet, breathy, “Yes?”.

 

Beau’s response almost wasn’t words, just a wrecked, gasping noise resembling, “Please,” which was all Yasha needed to hear to finally expose what was between Beau’s legs. And it was a sight; her short curls completely failed to hide how absolutely ready she was, visibly glistening, her clit so swollen it could barely be hid inside of her lips. She spread her legs and impatiently guided Yasha’s head nearer, breathing quickly and slightly trembling with want.

 

Yasha didn’t need a second invitation. With her tongue, she started near Beauregard’s entrance, tracing upwards through her slick heat, circling around her engorged mound. Beau moaned, loudly and without thought of anyone else who might be sleeping in adjacent rooms, driven wild by waiting and feeling dizzy now she was finally getting what she had yearned for. Yasha expertly moved her clit into her mouth, alternating between tongue laps and gentle sucking, a combination that made Beau think she would lose it and come right then and there. She resisted and reveled in the sensation, raising her hips in a bid for more. Yasha’s tongue occasionally travelled down to her entrance and back up, making her ache for something inside of her.

 

The Aasimar knew what all of Beau’s moans meant by heart, and these were needy, demanding, wanting noises, calling for her fingers to penetrate her desperate opening. She obliged, not needing anything but the natural slick of Beau’s yearning to glide into her. Beau’s head dropped firmly into the pillow as she arched her back, raising her hips to take more and more of Yasha’s thick fingers into her, the Monk’s entrance tightening around what she needed. And Yasha knew where she was going, maintaining the sucking and licking on Beau’s clit but also bending her fingers enough to find the rough, swollen patch of nerves inside of her. 

 

Contact made Beau gasp and whine, her breaths coming faster and faster, and Yasha could hardly keep herself lined up with Beau’s body as her hips bucked again in want. Beau began to shake as she got louder, incoherent noises flowing from her lips; just what Yasha loved to hear. 

 

Beau’s orgasm was a powerful explosion, crashing through her like a wave, stronger than she had ever felt before. The relief was overwhelming as the longing and yearning of the past week gave way to pleasure, to release granted by Yasha’s fingers and tongue. Her toes curled and her fingers pulled at the Aasimar’s hair; she was powerless to control any part of her body, riding Yasha’s fingers, contracting around them as the aftershocks set in, panting and gasping and barely aware when Yasha pulled herself free and licked the evidence of Beau’s arousal from her fingers. The Monk closed her eyes, gasping and feeling weightless on the bed, and allowed herself to be effortlessly moved by Yasha, positioning her so she could wrap her arms around the smaller woman through the calm that followed the desperate storm. 

 

No words were said. No words were needed. Beau could have fallen asleep like that, relaxed and boneless in her lover’s arms, except the lack of exposed skin reminded her that Yasha was still mostly clothed. Beau suddenly realized that she had scarcely even touched Yasha yet, and she was probably just as frustrated as she had been.

 

Turning to face Yasha, Beau slipped her hand lower to unbutton the Aasimar’s trousers, surprised and then elated gasps escaping her lips as Beau’s fingers came into contact with her slick heat. Beau could hardly believe how wet Yasha was; it was almost difficult to find where she needed to be with so much frictionless liquid beneath her fingertips. But she found it, and the gasps turned to begging moans. Yasha never lasted long when Beau was touching her, softly and perfectly, and tonight was definitely no exception. No more than a minute could have passed before Yasha gasped and came, her face inches away from Beau’s, quietly and softly saying her name over and over as she rode her climax. The afterglow made Yasha feel even weaker to the tiny Monk in front of her, and the two wrapped their arms around one another.

 

“I waited for you, too,” Yasha breathed as she fell asleep.

 

Beau sought to memorize the warmth spreading through her chest as she marveled at the beautiful woman in her arms. She kissed Yasha’s sleeping forehead, shifted to tuck herself against her more, and fell asleep herself, drifting into peace. 

 

Yasha was worth every minute of waiting for.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this is my first fic since my eighth grade Twilight fanfiction days (10 years ago, holy shit) so go easy on me in the comments X_x I just love this ship so much that I had to contribute. Also, I'm out of Critical Role lesbian smut on this damned website, so I decided to create some of my own.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it. ^_^


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